Chapter Text
- GET OUT OF HERE!!
This was definitely not the welcome Luther had been expecting. He dodged a thrown glass as he glanced at Ethan, who looked just as shocked as he was when he recognized him. - Sorry. I thought you were the IMF errand boy. Again.
Luther nodded in understanding, taking off his customary hat and entering Ethan's mountain home in a remote corner of Wyoming. Ethan's sullen expression clouded over for a moment as he gave his old friend an awkward hug. - Good to see you, Luther. Unless you're also here on a mission.
Luther laughed, shaking his head.
- No, I told them not to try to use me for that. Benji too, from what I know. - They both sat at the rustic wooden table and looked at each other in silence. It had been months since they had seen each other. Six, to be exact. Six months since the Entity had been deactivated, against the orders of Kitridge, who wanted, like the government, to have control over the software and direct it to his own advantage. Ethan had almost died in the process, Benji too. These were their last missions, although unofficial. - So they're still trying to recruit you?
Ethan nodded. Luther could see it in his expression - his old friend was no longer the same. Finally, a few silver strands were beginning to appear at the temples of his abundant black hair. His beard showed that he hadn't shaved for a few days. But the most significant change, for those who knew him, was his gaze. He looked... Defeated. As if all his victorious missions no longer meant anything. At least not as much as they should have. Luther sighed, holding his friend's gaze.
- So this life is over for you?
Ethan gave a bitter smile. No, he knew it wasn't. There was no easy way out of this life, other than maybe death. It was tempting sometimes.
- No, of course not. I returned the missions. On the last one I scribbled “DEAD” on top and sent it back. Ilsa was right… - His voice broke as he said her name, and Luther pretended not to notice. - There will always be someone to fight the IMF’s battles and save the world. I know that at some point I will need to go back. But I will only accept being an instructor, I don’t want to be a field agent anymore. - He looked at Luther firmly, then looked away. They both knew the reason. - I don’t want someone’s life as a bargaining chip anymore. I think I did a good job instructing Grace. She’s a good agent now.
Luther shifted in his chair, uncomfortably.
- And how are things between you two?
Ethan frowned, not quite understanding what he meant. Little by little, a tired smile appeared.
- You don't think I have something with her, do you, Luther? - He stood up, turning his back on his friend. Even after six months now, it was hard to talk about her without choking up. Without blaming himself. Without thinking that he could and should have taken another path. Ethan fixed his gaze on the fireplace, but he couldn't see the logs crackling in it. - Feelings aren't included in the package of being who I am. And if I didn't learn my lesson with Julia, I learned it when I saw Ilsa dead on that bridge. - He swallowed hard, remembering the helplessness he felt for leaving her there, for not being able to do anything for her. For not giving up this life when she invited him to do so. Maybe the world wouldn't be so safe, but damn it - she would be. He would take care of this, no matter what. And now it was too late. He shook his head and spoke in a low voice, as if talking to himself. - I wanted her to know.
- What? - His friend's voice, understanding, sounded low, reminding Ethan that he was not alone in his outbursts that time.
- I loved her, Luther. And I wasn't even able to... - Ethan needed a few seconds. He swallowed hard, staring at the crackling wood in the fireplace. - I wasn't able to save her or even bury her. She was left like a pauper on a bridge in Venice. As if she wasn't the incredible woman she was, the incredible fighter she was... As if she wasn't loved by anyone. And damn it, Luther, she was.
It was the first time they had had that conversation. Luther approached slowly, sitting next to Ethan on the worn sofa. He put his hand on his friend's shoulder, knowing he had a mission there - and trying to fulfill it in the best way possible.
- She knows how you feel about her, Ethan. I... I know what happened in Venice.
Ethan doesn't take in his words right away. Not only because he doesn't speak of her in the past, but also in the present. At first he attributes "what happened in Venice" to Ilsa's death, but a memory that tormented him every day and night comes to him in a fleeting second - something else that had happened in Venice.
Luther and Benji had left to prepare for the night that awaited them. Ilsa had come to him on the terrace - beautiful, sweet, affectionate, the citrus scent in her hair, so willing to do whatever it took to help him and, damn it, he loved her so much and knew she felt the same way about him. He had always known. The mission ahead of him was clear - as was the certainty that she would be in danger, and this time he didn't fight the desire they felt for each other, the electric tension that had run between them since they met. When she snuggled against him, he couldn't resist and turned her face until he kissed her, on her cheek, on the tip of her nose, on her lips. The desire that had been repressed for so long ended up taking them to one of the beds in the abandoned hotel in Venice, and although it wasn't how he had dreamed that this day would finally come for them, it was the sweetest, most erotic and passionate memory of his life - the memory that still kept him awake at night and made him hate who he was and the choices he had made. But he was sure of one thing - neither Luther nor Benji knew what had happened. They could guess, of course. In the gondola, he sought her touch and they exchanged a sweet and knowing smile about what had happened shortly before. But Luther spoke as if he was sure. How could he?
-Did Ilsa tell you? When?
Luther shook his head.
- She didn't need to tell me, Ethan.
Ethan looked at him blankly. It was Luther's turn to gather strength. He looked out the window, at the snow falling outside. Then he began, his voice distant, remembering another snowy place.
- It all started in Kashmir. I told Ilsa about Julia, that she lived like a ghost to protect her own life, that I helped her with that. I said that besides Julia, I only knew one woman you cared about: her. And I said that if she felt something for you, it was time to get out because she would be someone else for you to worry about. But she didn't want to. You came and she said she would go with you, and we had all that shit with Lane and the bombs. Well... - He laughed, shaking his head. - You know how stubborn she can be.
- I don't understand...
- I need you to let me finish. I promise you'll understand. - Luther sighs. - When I told her about you being in danger, after you found her in the desert and she gave you half of the Entity's key, Ilsa asked me something. - This time, Luther forced himself to look at Ethan's confused face. - She knew Gabriel's methods. Kitridge knew how important Ilsa was to you, that's why he tasked you with the mission of finding her, and if he knew, obviously the Entity knew too. All of Kitridge's records were still virtual. So we came up with a plan, with a high chance of failure, but it was a plan: Ilsa would let herself be ambushed. She would fake her death and I would help her with it like I helped Julia. And as soon as you recovered the key and we were ready, she would join us to continue the mission and to, in her words...- Luther laughed, before continuing. - Save your ass as usual.
Ethan was absolutely confused, now. Did they plan to fake her death?
- And… When did it go wrong? I mean, on the bridge…
Luther sighs.
- I said, I need you to let me explain. When we located the Sevastopol and prepared to disable the Entity, I went to get her. But… She wasn't fine.
- Luther, wait... She was alive? What went wrong? Why are you only telling me this now?!
Luther nods.
- Yes, she was alive, Ethan. She IS alive. But she couldn't join us. Not when she found out she had... Someone other than you to take care of.
Ethan's mind was spinning, his eyes wide, he couldn't form any words, just staring at his friend as if his world had turned upside down. Luther understood Ethan's state of shock, this time looking deep into his companion's eyes before telling him:
- I know what happened between you in Venice because it had consequences, Ethan. She had just found out when I arrived at the infirmary in northern Italy where I had taken her, where she was recovering from Gabriel's blow, so I took her to stay with Julia and her husband for a few days - she needed a doctor. But she's fine. They're very fine. She made me swear I would never tell you anything. She asked you to go with her once and you didn't want to, so... - He shrugged. - I understood her side, I even agreed. She was shaken but she made her choice, and she didn't want to force you to do the same. I wouldn't have said anything if you hadn't shown yourself so willing to leave the IMF or at least the field work. But now...
Ethan felt completely lost. As if he needed proper confirmation, he jumped up from the couch, standing in front of Luther.
- You can't be telling me that Ilsa is alive and…
- Pregnant. Yes, that's what I'm saying. As much as she insisted that she didn't want you stuck in this situation, old friend… And of course she's strong enough to deal with this on her own, even though she was totally shocked at first, just like you… I thought you'd want to know and that you deserved to know. And she'll kill me when she finds out I told you, but I'm willing to pay the price.
- Luther, if this is a joke…
- I would never joke about it, Ethan. - Looking at his friend, he knew it was true. Ethan's mind was spinning. He'd never imagined the possibility of being a father. Not in the life he had. Not with everything he'd seen and faced. How could this work? He realized for a moment that Ilsa must have been thinking exactly the same thing and his heart sank as he imagined her deciding to go ahead even on her own.
- People like us can't afford a happy ending, can they, Luther?
His friend smiled sympathetically at Ethan's lost look. He looked his friend deep in the eyes.
- I think you deserve some peace and a normal life after everything... And I told you now because I think it was the right time; you can be there when your child is born. But don't do it if you're not sure, Ethan. She's said more than once that she knows your life is the IMF. And if that's her choice, I promise I'll continue to make sure she and the baby are safe. You know I'll do everything in my power to make that happen.
Ethan finally seemed to come to his senses.
- My life isn't the IMF anymore, Luther. - Ethan shook his head. In a split second he found his wallet, a backpack where he threw a few pieces of clothing and only then remembered that there was one detail missing. - Where... Where is she?
Luther laughed. He placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder, then handed him an access device. It was shaped like a familiar lipstick.
“I’m sure you know where to find her.”
The words caused an unmistakable deja vu in his mind. With a relieved smile for the first time in what seemed like a lifetime, Ethan rushed out the door.
“Casablanca.”